


Like Real People Do

by Chess_Blackfyre



Series: A Yellow Rose [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Formerly Tranquil Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Tags Will Update As Story Progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre
Summary: An ambassador, a pacifist, a skilled player of the Game who is still somewhat of a romantic, and longs to help the world as best she can.A mage, a Herald, an Inquisitor, a woman no longer Tranquil, learning how to feel again.Love can be found in the strangest of places, and even the most dangerous of times.A series of interconnected one-shots detailing the life and love of Elsa Trevelyan and Josephine Montilyet
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan
Series: A Yellow Rose [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795546
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	1. Getting to Know You

**Author's Note:**

> So, we start off with a bit of Elsa's backstory, and specifically how it differs from the standard Trevelyan options found in the game.

“Lady Trevelyan, do you have a moment?”

“Sure,” the mage smiled and stepped into her small office. “Do you need something, Ambassador?”

“Yes. Well, not precisely, but—I should like to know if anyone here has treated you unkindly, Herald. For being a mage.”

Oh! As her eyebrows shot up her forehead, Elsa found herself smiling, a little touched that Lady Montilyet would think of that. “Don’t worry, the Templars here haven’t been giving me much trouble. I can deal with a few whispers and sideways looks.” In fact, sense the Breach was stabilized, the few that were in Haven were actually starting to look at her with something like respect. It was…nice.

Elsa had intended for her words to reassure, but they seemed to have the opposite effect. Josephine tsked in displeasure and made a note on her clipboard. “I shall speak to the staff regarding such conduct. If we are to convince the world that Andraste’s Herald is a mage, the Inquisition must give you its utmost support.” That made sense to her. “As for the Templars…” she sighed. “Well, I’m glad to know that much, at least. Although I doubt the many others of the Order will be so open-minded.”

“Probably.” That Lord Seeker in Val Royeaux had been an ass, to say the least. “I think the fact that my Tranquility was reversed unnerves them."

“It certainly isn’t helping the rumors,” the Antivan admitted. She looked up. “Minaeve explained some of what the Rite entails, and from what I understand you are...an exceedingly unique case, to say the least."

A shrug. “If it’s been done before, I’ve never heard of it. Tranquility is intended to be a lifetime sentence.” Spending the rest of her life in that fog. Never feeling, never dreaming, little more than a wind-up toy—she would rather die than go back to it. _Don’t think about it. Focus on something else_. “What kind of rumors?”

Josephine’s pursed lips imply how distasteful the Antivan finds repeating them, but obliges. “All sorts of things. That you consort with demons, sacrifice children in vile rituals, were made Tranquil for use of blood magic...”

“Well, I’m not and—“ she remembers the pain, trying to fight against those who were holding her down, kicking and screaming until the brand cut everything away. Elsa swallows and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Have you read the Tale of the Champion?” A nod. “Varric was spot on. You could hardly sneeze without Knight Commander Meredith accusing someone of blood magic. I was already a harrowed mage when they made me Tranquil.” From the look on Josephine’s face, it’s clear that she understands that it’s something that they’re not supposed to do.

“I see..” a raised head and a surprised expression. "Wait, Meredith? You lived at the Gallows?"

Was that new information? She would have assumed Knight-Captain—that Cullen would have told them that already. “Yes.”

“My apologies, my lady,” she smoothes over. "I had assumed that you were at Ostwick’s Circle."

“It’s no problem. Although I’m somewhat surprised the Commander didn’t mentioned it. Or that our spymaster didn’t already know.”

A flush across her fine features. “Well, they never mentioned it to me—and here I was using Ostwick’s quaint reputation and neutrality in the mage uprising…” She looks back to her. “I would have thought that with your family’s connections, you would have stayed in Ostwick."

Elsa shrugged. “I was transferred to Kirkwall when I was still young, so I honestly couldn’t tell you why. Wait—do you know my family?”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m well acquainted with many Trevelyan's, but I believe I’ve attended parties with a few of your relations.”

“Well, then you already know them better than I do,” Elsa smiled. “I haven’t seen my family since I was a small child.”

“Truly? They never tried to visit you in Kirkwall?”

“If they did, they weren’t allowed in, and I was never told of it." Elsa remembered reading through dozens of letters sent to the Gallows, family members begging for updates, schedule visits, or simply trying to send presents. As the Knight Commander’s assistant, it had been her responsibility to sort through the requests, responding to those families important enough to warrant a written refusal. The rest were simply burned. "I was only ever allowed infrequent letters, but even those stopped after, well…”

The Ambassador graciously allows her to drop the subject. “Perhaps now would be a good time to get back into contact with them, I’m sure they’d be glad to hear from you after all this time.”

As Elsa felt her stomach drop, she distantly wondered why that idea made her feel so…not-right. Was she scared? Yes. No. Sort of. Nervous? Maybe. Fuck, emotions were hard sometimes.

“I—“ she fiddled with one of her earrings. “Can I think about it? Because I’m not sure where I would even start with a letter like that.” A mirthless snort. “”Hello mother and father, I know I haven’t written in a while, but I’m alive, no longer Tranquil, and now some people are calling me the Herald of Andraste. But anyway, what’s new in your lives?’”

Somehow, that managed to pull a chuckle from the dear ambassador. She had a nice laugh “A unique opening, certainly. Perhaps after you return from the Hinterlands, I could assist you in drafting a letter?”

“I—thank you, Lady Montilyet. I would appreciate that."


	2. A Matter of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Josephine's help, Elsa contacts her family for the first time in years. The response isn't what either of them expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so originally this was going to a twofer. But now it seems we're going to have a three-parter.

“I thought about what you said—about writing my family a letter?”

  
“Oh?” The Ambassador looked up from her desk. The Herald was holding a piece of parchment in one hand, crisscrossed with words and sentences written, crossed out and re-written.

“Could you help me with it? I’m not—you’re so good with words, and I just seem to…ramble.” As the mage tentatively handed it over, the Ambassador only needed to read the first few lines to see what Trevelyan was talking about. It—well, the Herald of Andraste had good penmanship at least. That was the best thing you could really say about it.

“It…is a good first draft,” she tried, but it sounded half-hearted even to her ears. “And I will be happy to assist you with the second one, your Worship.”

That hopeful, tentative smile that graced the Herald’s face already made the inevitable backlog of work worth it.

* * *

By next morning’s light, the Herald of Andraste was making her way to Val Royeaux, and one of their most dependable riders was sent to hand-deliver her letter to Ostwick. 

“You seem remarkably pleased this morning,” their spymaster observed, voice casual as she arranged the pieces on the war table.

“The Trevelyans have their pull in the Free Marches. They could be valuable allies to the Inquisition,” Josephine cooly reminded, eyeing the war table and mentally running over who she hadn't yet contacted. It seemed she'd been writing almost every major and minor noble family in Thedas over the past week.

“Right. Of course.” Leliana politely agreed, which meant that she didn’t agree at all. She thought Josephine to be a romantic and while there _was_ a certain kind of appeal that came with the thought of reuniting the mage with her long-lost family this was all business. All for the Inquisition. Josephine told herself that, even as she tried to think of possible reasons the Herald would need to travel north to the city-state of her birth. Trouble would undoubtedly crop up there sooner or later, trouble that would undoubtedly require Elsa Trevelyan's personal attention.

* * *

The response returned before the Herald did, a fortnight after it was sent. The rolled parchment of quality make and stamped with the rearing stallion of House Trevelyan. Josephine opened her mouth to instruct the servant to leave it in Lady Trevelyan’s quarters on the tip of her tongue when—

“Thank you. I will make sure the Herald sees this as soon as she returns from Orlais.”

\--when she said that instead.

“Yes, milady."

That left her with an unopened scroll and a suddenly guilty conscience. Whatever was written in this letter would be of great personal significance to Lady Trevelyan, and likely an emotional response from her family. It would be rude at best to open it before her, even invasive. Josephine tapped a quick staccato on the desk, and pushed the scroll off to the side, amongst other unopened messages. She would stay true to what she said, and hand it over directly to the Herald.

For the next hour, the Ambassador diligently returned to her work, contacting possible allies, keeping those hostile to them from becoming outright enemies, and outlining the benefits of the Inquisition in about two dozen different ways to dozens of different people. Not to mention uniformly turning down invitations to various parties and salons on both her and the Herald’s behalf. Josephine never lost awareness of that one particular letter and caught herself reaching for it more than once.

As the bell for evening vespers tolled, Josephine stood and relished in a long stretch, feeling quite satisfied in her work and the part she was playing in the young Inquisitor, helping to bring peace to Thedas in her own way. As she tried to turn her thoughts towards a small snack or even a drink before turning in for the night, the Antivan’s eyes drifted once more to the letter.

This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Josephine should call one of the servants over and have them place it in the Herald’s quarters like she should have to begin with. Picking it up, she ran her thumb over the wax seal. It would be so easy to open it...and it could be another week before the Herald returned to Haven, depending on the weather and road conditions. This could have vital information. For the Inquisition.

She could practically hear old Mother Beatrice. " _The Maker loves all his children, but had great distaste for snoops and gossips_."

But Josephine was only human, and Maker knew that to be human was to be flawed. 

The stallion’s eyes seemed to gaze up at her in judgement as she broke the wax seal. Carefully unfurling the letter, she read the words once, twice over before she set it down, the furrow in her brow growing at each line.

Oh. Oh dear.

* * *

The Herald returned three days later, exhausted from the road but bringing along two new recruits. The Ambassador decided to focus on that for the moment, considering in those three days she _still_ hadn’t figured out how to break the news of the letter for her. At least, not in any way that wouldn't likely seriously damage her relationship with the woman.

Madame de Fer was a force to be reckoned with, although Josephine suspected that the First Enchanter was here more to try and bolster her own reputation rather than anything else. Still, she brought with her no shortage of influence, a handful of loyalist mages and potentially a new perspective into the Breach. (Matters of magic were far outside Josephine’s area of expertise). The Ambassador was less certain about what connections these ‘Red Jennies’ could have but trusted the Herald’s judgment.

  
Josephine was, of course, purposefully ignoring the red wax stallion in the room all throughout that particular meeting. Half-praying to the Maker that Elsa wouldn’t ask about the letter. So of course, she asked. 

"So, any messages for me?" the Herald inquires, probably trying for subtle, her icy blue eyes lit with hope even with the dark circles underneath.

"Dozens, my lady. Invitations to various parties, balls, salons, and many more much less complimentary correspondence. Nothing needing your particular attention at the moment." Not technically a lie.  
  


A soft smile. “Glad to hear it. Alright, well,” a stretch and a groan as the weariness of days on the road swiftly caught up with her. “If anyone needs me, I am going to try and take a bath before going to sleep." Josephine wished her a good rest, and ignored Leliana’s pointed gaze until Trevelyan had left the room. 

“You didn’t tell her.” It isn’t a question. It also wasn’t a question that Leliana knew exactly what the letter said, and that the Ambassador had already read it herself.

Josephine flips over a page and writes down a note. “The Herald has enough on her plate to deal with.”

“Not to be rude, but is it really your place to interfere with the woman’s personal life?” Cullen observed. 

“With the Herald of Andraste, the personal _is_ political." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "And I am strategizing as to how to break the news to her. To try and soften the blow."

“...how bad was it?"

“Well, to start off with, her father accuses her of being an abomination, or a demon in disguise.”

“I beg your pardon?” The former Templar sputters. Even the spymaster raises an eyebrow.

“To be entirely fair, he addresses the letter directly to me, instead of her. He claims that his _real_ daughter must have died at the Conclave and would be insulted to be made a figurehead of such heresy,” Josephine summarized. “He encourages me to renounce the Inquisition before it’s too late as he prays to the Maker that whatever pretender wears her face will be revealed and struck down in due time. So signed Bann Ulric Trevelyan of Ostwick."

A weighty pause. “You’re right, it’s probably best not to bother her with such matters,” the leader of the Inquisition's forces purposefully turned his eyes back down to the war table.

“Which reminds me," Leliana fished out another sealed envelope, "I received a letter for you, Commander. One from South Reach.”

A groan. “And that would be Mia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, the Trevelyans are, in canon, supposed to be super-close with the Chantry, hence why a warrior/rogue Trevelyan would be at the Conclave in the first place.
> 
> Edit: After doing some re-working on Elsa's family, I've changed the sourpuss reply from her brother Aaron, to her father Ulric.
> 
> So, if you have any thoughts/questions/concerns or just want to scream your feelings at me, comment below and let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you like this! Sorry we're not starting out particularly romantic, but, well, every relationship has to start somewhere!
> 
> For those who need a bit of clarification I based my Elsa Trevelyan on Elsa the Tranquil Mage from Dragon Age 2. While we know very little about her in canon, her involvement in the Gallows as Meredith's assistant seemed fascinating to me story-wise.
> 
> She and Cullen obviously know each other and were functionally co-workers for years--Hence her confusion that he didn't mention anything to Leliana and Josephine. 
> 
> If you have any questions/thoughts/concerns/just want to scream your feelings at me, comment below and let me know!


End file.
